


In All Honesty

by shiruru



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Chases, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiruru/pseuds/shiruru
Summary: “Am I too what, huh? Say that again, bastard,” Shizuo growled. Most of his anger—the primal and violent kind—had dissipated alongside the chase. Instead, it was a low, dangerous rage that simmered in his voice.Izaya huffed and leaned back against the fence. He narrowed his eyes, studied Shizuo for a few moments. “Well, well,” he said, pausing for a moment to see if Shizuo would interrupt, “you caught me.”Even when cornered, Izaya was unrelenting. Shizuo bit the edges of his lip hard enough to draw blood. Curling his fingers tighter into Izaya’s red shirt, Shizuo moved forward. Their noses were almost touching. Shizuo saw the sun reflect crimson in Izaya’s eyes.He wanted to bite that smirk off Izaya’s mouth.





	In All Honesty

It had been a while.

This was an obvious thought to Shizuo. Even with every inch of his intentions set on resting against the chain fences, eyes shut with his right arm draped over his propped up knee, he couldn’t escape the outstretched claws of past chases under the roaring sun.  It bled into his head like shoddily wrapped injuries, tended to with clumsy hands and a promise to return to take care of it proper but never finding the time. It bled into his head and there was nothing Shizuo could use to staunch the wound. It bled into his head in just five words. _It had been a while._

Today’s afternoon was blazing hot. With his eyes closed, the heat beat against his eyelids, seemingly pulsing in time with every thrum of his heart. Adrenaline was already beginning to close its hands around the restlessness Shizuo felt. He frowned. Even now, the echoes of their last chase resonated within his bloodstream. It made something sick rise in his chest, and a bitter taste decorated the walls of his throat all the way to the tip of his tongue. He sighed.

From behind his closed eyes, the sun was a bearably bright crimson. Then it dulled. The bearable bright crimson wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, Shizuo realized. This realization brought nothing but bad news.  

 _Shit,_ he thought. _Fuck._

“Now that I think about it, it has been a while since our last game,” a voice drawled. Shizuo opened his eyes. Izaya stood there, a smirk plastered across his lips. The sun painted his back, cast him in wicked shades. “Too long, in fact. Were you bored? Is that why you’re spending your time sunbathing? Underneath _this_ wretched heat, too. Did the lack of stimulation kill off the rest of your brain cells? After all, everybody knows you only use your head to think about how you’d kill—“

“Shut up,” Shizuo snapped, stumbling to his feet. His fists unclenched as he lunged forward. “Shut up, bastard!”

A chuckle flowed from Izaya’s lips. He jumped back immediately, before sidestepping and turning to run. Shizuo’s fingers came mere inches from the dark of his collar.

“Is this how you greet your classmates?” Izaya laughed. It was a high and fleeting sound compared to the way Shizuo’s own growl grated across his tongue. Shizuo’s head churned from the heat, his breath hot even to himself. He dashed forward, anyway.

Izaya had covered a sizeable distance in the seconds it took for Shizuo to move, but his head start was quickly nullified. Shizuo threw his arms out to hook his fingers into Izaya’s collar, but all he caught was air.

“You’re losing your touch,” Izaya taunted, and Shizuo was loathe to admit that he was right. There was lead in his bones, and the entirety of the rooftop was an ocean he couldn’t wade through with the same ease Izaya displayed. He growled and snarled and hissed, the calm from before a distant memory, and under the wicked rays of the sun Izaya looked nothing short of a devil. “Run faster, Shizu-chan!”

Izaya was a blur of black and red and wretched orange. Shizuo’s thoughts were there one moment, and in the next there was nothing at all, and then his body was moving and the motions were too familiar to him to deny. His body crackled with a relentless electricity he couldn’t stop. Izaya laughed ahead, mocking. Anger nestled, brimmed at the base of Shizuo’s throat, and the worst part of it all was that he knew he wouldn’t be able to rid himself of the feeling even hours after the chase.

“Shizu-chan will never catch me, so what’s the point in trying so hard, hm? Or are you too—“

Shizuo never heard the end of that sentence. Whatever Izaya wanted to say was cut short with a sharp hiss as Shizuo caught the edges of Izaya’s collar, when moments before he had been fumbling to even graze the wisp of Izaya’s hair. Without wasting any time, Shizuo pulled Izaya closer to himself and slammed him against the chain fences, the chase coming to an abrupt stop. It threw his balance off, and Shizuo stumbled forward but managed to catch Izaya’s shirt in time, pushed him further against the fences. An ugly rattle pierced the air, but it wasn’t as satisfying as the grunt of pain Izaya couldn’t stop himself from making. Izaya’s smirk was completely wiped off, his eyes clenched shut while they both recovered from the impact of the slam.

Shizuo couldn’t stop looking. He crushed the bewilderment threatening to overthrow his anger.

“Am I too _what_ , huh? Say that again, bastard,” Shizuo growled. Most of his anger—the primal and violent kind—had dissipated alongside the chase. Instead, it was a low, dangerous rage that simmered in his voice.

Izaya huffed and leaned back against the fence. He narrowed his eyes, studied Shizuo for a few moments. “Well, well,” he said, pausing for a moment to see if Shizuo would interrupt, “you caught me.”

Even when cornered, Izaya was unrelenting. Shizuo bit the edges of his lip hard enough to draw blood. Curling his fingers tighter into Izaya’s red shirt, Shizuo moved forward. Their noses were almost touching. Shizuo saw the sun reflect crimson in Izaya’s eyes.

He wanted to bite that smirk off Izaya’s mouth.

It never dawned on Shizuo that if _he_ could use his teeth, then Izaya could have used his knife. It wouldn’t have been fatal, would have only been similar to a stubbed toe, but Izaya still could have slashed hard enough to stun Shizuo momentarily, force him to loosen the grip he had on Izaya to allow Izaya to wriggle out from Shizuo’s hold. But Izaya didn’t do that. Maybe it never dawned on Izaya, either, the heat of Shizuo’s breath against his skin too distracting to come up with plans to escape. Maybe the unfamiliarity of it all stunned him the same way it stunned Shizuo. Or maybe it did. Maybe it did dawn on him, but Izaya wanted to see how far Shizuo would go.

Shizuo would never know. Shizuo wouldn’t have wanted to know, anyway.

“What are you going to do now?” Izaya asked, when the silence between them elapsed for a second too long. Shizuo’s brow furrowed, his lips curled into a snarl as he thought up a reply, but then he stopped. He stopped, with Izaya in his hold, and he lost the scowl that was splayed across his face.

“Kill you,” Shizuo responded. He sounded like a child.

“Right here, right now?”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said. His voice was still ragged with the aftermath of too much adrenaline, of the terrifying thrills that came from a chase, but the anger within him had come to a standstill. Maybe it was because there were so few things Shizuo _hadn’t_ wanted to do to Izaya and he couldn’t decide fast enough, or maybe it was because there had been too many chases where Izaya was always one step away from his grasp that Shizuo didn’t know what to do when Izaya wasn’t, or maybe it was because Izaya was craning his neck to lean forward ever so slightly, as if he could coax Shizuo’s merciless hold to hold back, just for a second. But Shizuo stopped. He licked his lips, breathed in the harsh air. His brows were still furrowed, and his lips curled into the beginnings of a scowl at his indecisiveness. The sun beat on his back, still as wicked.

He must have looked like a devil.

“At least make it quick,” Izaya drawled, the smug tones in his voice bringing Shizuo back. His free hand—the one that had been taut by his side all the while—came up to hit the fence beside Izaya’s head in warning. His fingers were entangled with the wire fence, gripping it the same way his other hand held Izaya. It was loud. Izaya flinched, his teeth grit. Something like amusement curled up in Shizuo’s chest.

“Stop talking,” Shizuo snapped. He didn’t need Izaya to stop talking, not really when he didn’t even have a coherent train of thought in the first place. Noise was better than the encroaching silence, but it _was_ Izaya _._  “You’re too fucking loud.”

Tension evaporated from Izaya’s expression. He was still leaning forward, a bit.

Izaya snorted. “And you aren’t?”

Shizuo didn’t respond. He let out an exhale. Izaya clicked his tongue, a hand moving to rest along Shizuo’s wrist. He pulled, gently, but neither of them expected anything to change. Nothing changed.

“I don’t have all day,” Izaya complained. His voice was finally starting to sound small—he was finally starting to sound the way he should. Izaya coughed, and it was a raspy sound like cut glass. “And it’s hard to breathe like this, you know.”

“What do you want with me?” Shizuo hissed. Izaya’s brow arched. “Why are you so _relaxed?”_

“All the last words in the world and the questions you decide to gift me are those?”

“Do you _enjoy_ this? _”_ Shizuo snarled, ignored Izaya’s taunt. He wrung Izaya’s collar forwards. The momentum was hasty and harsh, enough that it once again pulled the surprise from somewhere in Izaya out onto his face. Their foreheads touched, but Shizuo didn’t care.

Then: “Yes.”

All at once, the surprise evaporated like water, and then the smirk came sliding back across Izaya’s lips deliberately, slowly. It smarted, stung something deep within Shizuo, and then Shizuo’s body was moving without waiting for a command. He let go of the fence, fingers forming a fist without any thought, and allowed the familiar motions of a punch to pull him along.

Shizuo was expecting resistance in the form of Izaya’s fingers around his wrist, of the raise of an arm to act as a shield, of gritted teeth as Izaya braced himself, but Izaya didn’t do any of that.  The glee in his eyes dulled, instead, and then Izaya moved in as best as he could—close enough that even in the seconds before Shizuo’s fist met him he could feel the arid heat of Izaya’s breath against his lips.

And then Izaya kissed him.

His fist remained where it was, in the air and dangerously close to Izaya’s head. If Izaya moved, his hair would have tickled the edges of Shizuo’s knuckles.

It wasn’t that Shizuo didn’t want to move. It was that he couldn’t. His body was rooted where it was, his limbs frozen and the entirety of his head throbbed, thrummed as if taken by Izaya’s heat. Izaya moved against him, pressed his lips gently to Shizuo’s in a fashion Shizuo didn’t think Izaya knew how to. But it was foolish to think like that—Izaya must have kissed a thousand other people, Shizuo found himself thinking. His eyes remained wide open while Izaya’s was closed. There was a parade in his chest. It drummed noisily in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything else.

When Izaya parted, chose to let go, Shizuo lost his grip on Izaya’s collar. Izaya’s feet touched the ground with a small thump, but immediately he was getting on the tips of his toes to smile against Shizuo’s lips, a dry, brief laugh escaping him.

“Did you enjoy that?” Izaya asked, the insolent curve of his lips almost mischievous. Shizuo couldn’t grace him with an answer. Izaya moved backwards, retreating, and indeed, they were so close that his hair could tickle the knuckles of Shizuo’s fist, and this forced Shizuo to piece himself together. He finished throwing his punch—the first thing he thought of doing—but Izaya wasn’t in his hold any longer. Izaya was grinning, hopping backwards. His back grazed the wire fence.

There was something wrong about how Izaya’s smirk could still sit on his face like that.

“See you later,” Izaya crooned. He dashed past wordlessly. Shizuo reached out, but Izaya was back to being a step further again, and Shizuo didn’t have any primal and violent anger to spare for another round. The loud sound of a slamming door rang in his ears. Shizuo pressed his lips together, felt the ghost of another mouth against his, and scowled.  

The stubborn, lingering frustration after chases seemed small compared to the haunting echo of Izaya's warmth.


End file.
